Choices
by Frosteh
Summary: Angua is forced to make a decision she swore she would never make, and it affects the lives of everyone involved. [FINISHED]
1. It Begins

CHOICES

Disclaimer: I don't own them

The Pratchetts do

I have no money

Please do not sue.

Not sure how this fic is gonna turn out... It's just a random idea I had that turned into a sort-of story. Let's find out together, shall we? Rating WILL go up for later chapter(s); there will be a warning up so if you don't like then don't read. Here we go.

CHAPTER ONE: IT BEGINS

It was just a normal day. Mid-week at the end of autumn, nothing remarkable about it. Watchmen were patrolling in the rain, some happy about it and others definitely not. For those not on patrol it meant time to catch up on the paperwork, which was why Angua was currently in her lodgings in Elm Street lying on her bed and staring blankly at a half-finished report without enthusiasm, wishing she was just about anywhere else. Even patrolling in the rain would be preferable to trying to finish this; like most of the senior watchmen she disliked paperwork, although at least her desk wasn't covered with slowly-degrading mulch that had once been ignored stacks of paper.

She scrawled another sentence and then gave up. For some reason she couldn't concentrate. Tossing the sheet onto the floor, she rolled over and stared at the ceiling, knowing that if she didn't get it finished now she'd regret it and really not caring.

It only took a few seconds after ditching the report for her to realise something was wrong. This lack of concentration wasn't normal even for her. Sitting up, she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, to work out why her wolfish instincts had just gone mad and were sending increasingly urgent signals.

"Okay, what the hell – "she began, and then the world exploded.

Her vision went dark and pain ripped through her, enough to startle a yell out of her that was half a growl as she reacted automatically, starting the change before she regained control of herself. Blinking, she started to get up and then realised what had just happened. Eyes wide, she barely bit back a whimper and wasn't even aware of moving, but suddenly she was running down the street as fast as she could go, still human because she wasn't about to waste time changing shape, heading for Pseudopolis Yard.

Oh gods... She could dimly feel what had happened, sort of. Ordinarily this might have disturbed her but right now she really didn't care how many supernatural instincts she had. Please, no... Gritting her teeth, she ran, ignoring the various shouts of surprise and anger behind her as she ignored the curses and yells. It didn't matter. Just stop thinking and run.

By the time she skidded through the door of the Watch House, grabbing at the frame to stop her feet sliding on the wet floor, even she was out of breath. It didn't matter. The main room was full of watchmen, mostly shouting at one another, and the air smelled thickly of anger and fear and confusion. That couldn't be good. Snatches of talk reached her ears out of the jumbled mess of noise and chaos.

"- Alchemist's Guild exploded –"

"-Half the street flattened –"

Shaking her head, she grabbed the nearest constable and growled, "What happened?"

He stared at her nervously and shook his head slowly, mumbling something. She let go with another growl and turned to find the room gradually falling silent as word filtered through that she was there; nobody met her eyes. Now getting nervous, she asked again. "What happened?"

"Angua? That you?" It was Vimes' voice, coming from the corridor leading down to the cells.

"Yes..." she answered hesitantly, now seriously worried. He didn't sound like himself. "Sir, what's going on? I... I know he's hurt. What happened?"

He came out, looking stressed, his scent a jumble of emotions that she couldn't make out. Briefly he filled her in; Carrot had been patrolling solo, and the Alchemist's Guild had exploded, as it frequently did. As a result he had naturally gone to try and help those caught in the wreckage, as had several other nearby watchmen; and then a building had collapsed on top of him. The others had brought him in and Igor was working on him now.

When he was done she looked at him. "What aren't you telling me?" she asked quietly. He looked away. "Sir?"

He swallowed, then sighed and said softly, "It's bad, Angua. Igor's doing the best he can, but it doesn't look good. He's unconscious and Igor doesn't know if he'll wake up."

She stared at him blankly, her brain refusing to accept what he was telling her. The room had gone silent now, everyone staring at the two of them; she didn't notice. He saw her face and said it slowly and clearly.

"I'm sorry, Angua, but Carrot's dying."

END OF CHAPTER ONE

So, what did you all think? As a chapter it's pretty bland except for the ending but it set the scene for the real action starting in chapter two. So, R&R if you please... All feedback appreciated and loved.

Frosteh.


	2. The Decision

CHOICES

Disclaimer: See chapter 1, I'm too lazy to come up with another...

ANSWERS TO REVIEWERS

Taliara: You were my first ever reviewer, on my chatfic that got taken down. I will love you forever for that. Hehe I'm glad you like the look of my stuff... Hope I don't disappoint ya.

Blank Ned: Glad you like my little rhyming disclaimer. Just for you I wrote another little rhyme that's even lamer... Never fear, all will become clear. I know, I know, I have problems.

Dusty: You should copyright the word Angstgua. It's perfect.

Watchman: They're my favourites too, which is why I wrote this. I'm not going to tell you if he dies or not because it would give the whole thing away, and we can't have that now can we? All will be revealed with time.

Frosteh loves you all.

CHAPTER TWO: THE DECISION

She could only stare at him. A muted buzzing sound seemed to fill her ears and the edges of her vision went dark. At some level she was vaguely aware of voices, a hum somewhere far off, unimportant; she couldn't have identified words or tones had her life depended on it.

Somehow she made it outside and sank down to sit numbly on the stone steps outside the Yard, ignoring the rain pouring down her face as she leaned against the wall, starting to shake as it slowly sank in. Finally she felt herself start to Change, an automatic reaction to any strong and powerful emotion such as hurt, anger or fear, and stopped it. She couldn't afford that now. She had to think.

When she had regained a shaky control over her morphogenic field, she sat up and leaned back against the wet bricks, not even noticing the tears running down her cheeks with the rain, thinking. There was one chance, if she was willing to take it. It might not work, and even if it did it would mean breaking a promise she had made to herself years ago. She had sworn never to do this. But now... Did she have a choice?

She knew she couldn't just stand by and watch him die if there was any hope at all of saving him. But this... Shaking her head slowly, she bit her lip. It would mean going against everything she had vowed when she had left Uberwald, left it all behind her. But if it meant saving him... It was worth it. Hoping this was the right thing to do, hoping it would work, she stood up slowly and swiped at her eyes, wishing that werewolves had someone to pray to or that she had more time to think. There was no choice.

(Switching to Vimesey's POV for this bit to make it more dramatic. Hehe)

Vimes sat silently in one of the sickrooms set aside below the cells, his eyes fixed on the figure on the bed. Igor had given up, even if he hadn't said as much; he had gone to busy himself elsewhere now, ostensibly looking up alternative remedies, but if an Igor didn't know a cure then there wasn't one. Vimes didn't want to think what this was going to do to the Watch. Carrot was the one who'd held it together all these years, and in a very real way it was thanks to him that it had been built up from the gutter trash to a functioning official body once more.

This morbid musing was interrupted when the door opened and Angua walked in slowly, almost hesitantly, which was definitely unlike her. He looked at her carefully and saw she'd been crying; unsurprising, really, given the circumstances, but it was still a shock. Angua didn't cry. She occasionally made other people cry, but she herself never wept. She didn't even look at him, which was also no big surprise; he doubted she even saw him. Instead she crossed to the bed and stood there silently for a long time, looking down at the unconscious man.

He watched her warily, unsure of what even a werewolf with her self-control would do in these circumstances, and after some time he saw her close her eyes and whisper something to herself he couldn't make out before taking a deep breath. Crouching by the bed, she reached for Carrot's hand, the muscles in her face beginning to writhe peculiarly.

Now that was a surprise. She normally never changed in front of other people; obviously she wasn't thinking about that now, though, but he wasn't sure why she was changing at all unless it was a wolf thing he didn't know about. It only took him a few seconds to see that it was just her face that was changing, though, and that really was strange. He supposed that theoretically a werewolf could alter just one part of their body but he didn't see the point...

...Unless she needed to do something specific and didn't want to waste time changing entirely. But what?

He watched her hesitate and murmur something softly; her voice was badly distorted but he could just make out the words, "I'm sorry." What...? Then the muscles in her face began to really contort, features warping until he had to screw his eyes out of focus. He wasn't going to take his eyes off her until he'd worked out what was going on, but he couldn't watch that directly without feeling ill. This may have explained why it took him a few minutes to understand what happened next.

Angua's head lashed forward. Only for a second, she was hunched over Carrot's outstretched arm, and then it was done and she stood up, face normal now, backing away a pace and looking down at him with an unreadable expression. There was blood on her face.

An awful suspicion grew in Vimes' mind, and he glanced down at Carrot, who looked the same as he had before she came in... Except for the blood on his arm, a ring of crimson that was bleeding as he watched. He looked back and forth between the two, and it clicked. She'd bitten him. He finally found his voice.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO?"

END OF CHAPTER TWO

Taa-daah! That was The Choice, as it were. In the following chapters we see if it did indeed work as she hoped, and whether it does or not you can expect lots of angst as they all try to deal with the consequences. Hope you liked it, R&R and let me know!

Frosteh


	3. Consequences

CHOICES

Disclaimer: As before, see chapter 1.

ANSWERS TO REVIEWS

Blank Ned: I'm glad my poetry meets with your approval. If I think of another rhyme I shall let you know. And yes, Vimesey will indeed go ballistic. It won't be pretty.

Watchman: Yeah, I can see Vimes reacting exactly like that. Don't worry; chapters will come at regular intervals... I'm on a roll with this one.

Estriel: I know. I'm actually surprised nobody else has done this before... It's a great idea in principle. I just hope I can actually write it properly.

Yap: Yay, criticism. Duly noted and thank you for the advice.

Mercator: Wow, I got a review from Mercator! Yaaaaaaaay! Seriously, I got a positive review from one of my favourite authors. Thank you so much!

Frosteh loves you all.

CHAPTER THREE: CONSEQUENCES

She turned to look at him, her expression utterly unreadable.

"What do you mean, what did I just do?" she replied hoarsely, still in shock and trying not to dwell on what she had just done. "I would have thought it fairly obvious..."

Turning back to Carrot, she looked at him anxiously, wondering if it had worked and not really sure which she'd prefer, that she'd succeeded or that she'd failed.

Behind her she heard Vimes take a deep breath, but the expected shouting didn't come. Instead he said very quietly, "Assume I'm stupid, Angua. Explain." His voice had that careful edge of someone right on the brink of complete all-out rage.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him, but a brief spark of faint anger was dimly felt, enough so that she replied with slightly more spirit. "I tried to save his life when nothing else would work."

"You turned him into a monster –"He stopped abruptly, too late.

She whirled, sudden anger flaring, burning away the pain. "A monster. That's what you think? Is that how you see me? I did what nobody else could, and it might be the only thing that saved his life."

He was giving her a wary look now, not sure whether to be nervous or furious. "Most werewolves – all except you, from my experience – are monsters, Angua. You know that as well as I. What if he wakes up another Wolfgang, or worse?"

She shook her head angrily. "Do you really think he has that in him? Biting someone doesn't put a monster in him or her, Mr Vimes; it doesn't alter what's already there. He'll wake the same as he ever was."

"Except he'll be a werewolf."

"Well, yes," she replied slowly, staring at him. "That's how this works." Growling, she turned and faced him directly. "He is still alive because of me. I didn't want to do it but the only other option was letting him die, and I couldn't do that. It's done now and I can't undo it."

Vimes shook his head slowly. Finally he looked at the unconscious man on the bed. "What happens now?"

She shrugged, unsure herself. This was something she knew in theory but had never seen in practise; it was heavily discouraged on the whole back home, severely enough that if every werewolf alive hadn't already hated her now, they would when word spread. "As far as I know, convulsions and fever, fairly severe. If he lives through that he'll be a normal werewolf." Normal werewolf. How bloody ironic.

"You better make sure he does live through it, sergeant," he said quietly, anger in his voice. "Now you've done it, you make sure it was worth it, because when word of this gets out... You're on your own. I won't protect you this time; not over this. If he dies now, you'll go through hell for nothing."

She stared at him, half-stunned, half-angry, both emotions buried under a cold numb feeling. After so long this was almost a betrayal, but she knew he was right. What was to come after this was going to be pure hell. But as she had said, it was done, and couldn't be undone. She'd just have to try and make it through, same as she'd been doing all her life.

The door slammed as Vimes stalked outside. She could hear raised voices in the corridor, but didn't bother trying to listen; she didn't want to hear what was being said. One problem at a time for now. First things first... She turned back to the bed.


	4. Awakening

CHOICES

Disclaimer: If they were mine I would die of happiness and so no longer own them

ANSWERS TO REVIEWS

The lunatic who cares: Hey you! You reviewed! Yay! ::gives cookie:: Glad you like it. Yesssss... Read more Pratchett, preciousssssss...

Watchman: They are kinda short, aren't they? I feel ashamed. Really. Ahem. My apologies... Think of them as scenes rather than chapters, maybe? Also for stories about Angua I recommend Rozi's stuff, she's written some great ones.

Yap: Oh, I can stop it there. Heh, I'm evil sometimes. Glad you liked it... Yes, eventually Vimesey will be supportive but it's gonna take a long time to make his point... Otherwise it wouldn't be angsty, now would it? Muhaha.

Not your average: Freaky! I'm in year 14 and don't do English but other than that it's a pretty accurate description of me. Cool, I am not alone! Glad you like it.

Mercator: Yeah, this chapter was too short... It's just there was nothing left to say and I didn't want to move on to the next stage just yet. Keep the suspense going. I'll try and make this one a bit longer, just for my poor pain-filled admirers!

LottieRebel: How could anyone hate Carrot? I thought the whole point was that that was physically impossible. Hehe anyway, glad you like it so far...

You are loved, all of you

CHAPTER FOUR: AWAKENING

The next week was just the beginning of a never-ending nightmare. Vimes had given orders that no one was to set foot in the room, not even Igor, and no one was to help if asked or to offer help. She was on her own. At first Carrot had simply been unconscious and she'd been able to get some sleep, on and off; then the fever had begun.

As a werewolf Angua didn't know the first thing about medicine, because it wasn't necessary. Having no idea whether any of Igor's stock would help, she was forced to go back to basics; cold water, damp cloth on the forehead and so on. She didn't know anything else that would work, and in his condition it was probably more dangerous to try anyway. That dealt with the fever as best she could.

When the convulsions started they were worse than she had thought and she had to physically restrain him once or twice. No easy task; he'd been strong enough as a human to knock out a troll, and now he was becoming stronger. Three long sleepless days of struggle followed before the fever broke suddenly and the convulsions stopped, leaving both patient and 'nurse' exhausted.

More than a week since it had happened, she was half-asleep in her chair when she was dimly aware of him moving. Slowly opening her eyes, she glanced worriedly over at the bed just as his eyes opened. For a long moment she was frozen, caught midway between overwhelming relief and irrational nervousness, before finally managing to speak softly.

"Carrot?"

He groaned thickly and blinked before closing his eyes again and managing a response. "What... happened?"

She'd been rehearsing possible conversations over the past few days, but there really wasn't an easy way to say, 'Well, I bit you and turned you into the undead.' In the end, after a too-long pause, she asked a little warily, "What do you remember?"

"I was patrolling. I heard an explosion..." he said slowly. "I think... something hit me?"

"Something did hit you," she replied, "about half the alchemist's guildhouse. You've been unconscious for over a week."

He processed that. "So... why don't I feel badly hurt?" he asked slowly, eyes clouding. Carrot was not stupid and he was obviously beginning to realise that something wasn't right.

It took her about three seconds to realise that trying to stall for time whilst she thought of a way to tell him was not going to work. Taking a deep breath, she said quietly, "I bit you."

That earned her a blank stare filled with slowly dawning understanding before he suddenly glanced down at his forearm, at the red and inflamed-looking bite. Hoping like hell she hadn't really seen an expression of horror in his eyes, she tried to fill the silence, wishing she didn't feel so nervous.

"You... you would have died if I hadn't. Even Igor had given up."

She bit back the words I had no choice. She had had a choice. Admittedly it was to let him die, which she was pretty certain she wasn't physically capable of, but there it was. He still hadn't said anything and now she was starting to be worried. Shifting uneasily, she caught his scent; too many jumbled emotions for her to get a clear idea of what he was thinking or feeling. Damn. Okay, no point waiting. Might as well get it over with.

"Carrot? Carrot, say something..."

He lifted his head and gave her a completely blank stare. She knew that one, and used it herself frequently. No emotion and no feeling, just bland attention. Finally he looked away, turned away completely actually, and his voice lacked any inflection when he did speak.

"I'd like to see Mister Vimes if he's around."

Not what she'd been hoping would happen. The first part of her wish had come true; he had woken up and seemed likely to live. The second part, that he wouldn't hate her, was obviously going to be harder. Suppressing the urge to whimper, she said uneasily, "Carrot..."

He interrupted her, still gazing at the wall. "I said I'd like to speak to Mister Vimes."

Somewhere deep she felt a faint flare of anger. She had saved his life, after all. But mostly she just felt numb, too exhausted emotionally and physically to do anything other than reply listlessly, "Okay."

Standing, she left, resisting the urge to look back. Pushing open the door and walking out into the crowded main room, she was aware of the silence so intense it had almost a physical force. Every conversation had stopped and every watchman stared at her. "Someone tell Mister Vimes he's awake and wants to see him," she said tonelessly into the sucking void of silence before walking out the door.

So the one who had saved his life ended up slinking away, hated and feared, tail metaphorically between her legs and somewhere between anger and hurt. Finally stopping on her way back to her lodgings, she stared at the empty street and muttered, "Welcome to hell, Angua," before slinking off wondering how she was going to get through this.

END OF CHAPTER FOUR

Well, what do you think?

Frosteh


	5. Moonlight, Part One

CHOICES

Disclaimer: If I owned them I would be doing a lot more than just writing about them

ANSWERS TO REVIEWS

Not your average: Woah, that was a fast review; I only just uploaded it. Hehe glad you still like it, and yes I am proud of my English skills. Year 14, Upper Sixth, second year of sixth form, A2 year, call it what you will.

Watchman: Hey, it was longer than the last one! Don't make me whine pathetically – it's not a pretty sight. I shall watch for that link, sounds good. Shame about your story, I thought it started well...

Lunar: Yeah... I thought about that at first because it seemed to fit with his character, but even Carrot has limits and waking up a werewolf would shock anyone. Plus it wouldn't be nearly as much fun to do it that way Muhaha. Glad you like it so far.

Blank Ned: No, it's not fair, is it? I'm fairly proud of it myself. Glad you're still with me; I don't want to start losing my reviewers now!

Taliara: My thanks for the compliment! Hmm, it really almost made you cry? Wow... Um, I mean sorry... Hehe

Annie Wilkes: Ta very much. I always wondered too, so I decided to write it down.

Athena Lionfire: I know, I know, but she has seemed a bit less angry in the most recent books... Besides, she's going to leap back into character eventually, when I'm done torturing her

You are all loved and adored. Keep reviewing.

CHAPTER FIVE: MOONLIGHT PART ONE

Three weeks had passed. Three long, lonely weeks, and Angua had just about had enough. The entire Watch knew what had happened; there was no way to keep something like that a secret for long. Now the ones who didn't run when they saw her were whispering openly, and the few she cautiously had numbered among her friends were ignoring her.

So was Vimes, but even that she could have endured if Carrot hadn't been ignoring her too. She had been prepared to accept that he would need time to adjust, that things would be different between them, but this seemed unlike him and it was beginning to wear her down.

Apart from anything else a small part of her knew she should be angry, but instead she seemed to be getting depressed. And there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't even take the desperate leap of going and getting blind drunk, since the crowd in Biers were shunning her as well; she didn't even consider going to the Bucket. Growing desperate she might be but stupid she was not.

And now it was the night of the full moon, and she didn't have to work. Unable to bear being confined in her room any longer, in the room where she now spent her free time staring at the walls, she slid out of the ground-floor window left open at nights and hit the cobbles outside, taking a breath of the damp autumn night. She needed to run, to get out and escape at least for a few hours.

Yet at first she could only wander the streets, not sure where to go, unwilling to make a decision. The wolf wasn't used to such indecision and odd feelings; wolves didn't get depressed. This was upsetting her divided nature. Circling aimlessly in a wide loop, her mood grew darker still when it started to rain heavily; although usually she liked the way that rain cleared the air and brought clean fresh scents to her nose. Now it was just something else to make her feel miserable.

Knowing she was in denial, finally she stopped and sat down, thinking. Facing up to the fact that she wanted to see him, she sighed heavily and started moving again, with more purpose if with less hope. It would be his first Change tonight, and she should make sure he was coping with it. That would be something, even if she did have to stay hidden.

Yes, it was his first Change, and he had gone through it alone in a small shack behind the Yard that had once been a stable. It had hurt, which had surprised him until he'd reasoned that he wasn't used to this yet. Once the pain had faded, he had spent almost half an hour sitting growing accustomed to extremely powerful senses; his first breath had nearly stunned him. Then a few minutes growing used to four legs and a tail, and he was ready to move; he had noticed an almost unbearable urge to get out into the (relatively) fresh air and run.

The rain was a relief. It dampened some of the overpowering scents and made life much easier for a new werewolf. It also reduced the acrid odour of the city itself; he hadn't noticed it before, not this distinctly. It made him realise what Angua went through every time she Changed...

As he had done every time he thought of her for the past three weeks, he forced it out of his mind. He wasn't entirely certain what to think about what she had done, so he compensated by not thinking about it at all. Besides, he had enough to focus on at the moment; stretching, he broke into a run.

Eventually his paws took him to Sator Square, a wide empty space filled with fountains, and completely deserted at this hour. Stopping in the lee of a convenient fountain to catch his breath, he looked around with the rain dripping into his eyes. It was all quiet, and wet, yet something told him he wasn't alone.

It took him a few minutes of slow circling to pick up even a faint scent; Angua had hidden herself well, considering. Once he realised she was there he froze for a long moment, panicking slightly as he wondered what on earth he was going to say or do. Then it occurred to him that it wasn't like her to stay hidden; surely she would have come up to him? Puzzled, he turned slowly, looking about.

Eventually he saw her sitting in the lee of a fountain, staring morosely across the square. The sight was so unlike her that he had to stop and stare; he had actually never seen her truly miserable before. Now, though... Ears down, head low, her whole posture somehow limp and withdrawn, he almost wondered if he'd made a mistake and it wasn't actually her. Until she looked up and met his eyes.

END OF CHAPTER FIVE

Having fun yet? Review and I shall update sooner. Promise.

Frosteh


	6. Moonlight, Part Two

CHOICES

Disclaimer: I wish I owned them. I do. But sadly, no such luck, so I am merely playing with them for a time.

ANSWERS TO REVIEWS

Blank Ned: You must have caught it just as I updated, so before it showed up. I know, I almost feel guilty about what I'm doing to them... Hehe only almost though. Wasn't planning to add Cheery in but just for you I will add a small piece of Vimesey at the end, which sadly is just a few chapters away.

Watchman-whose-new-pen-name-is-too-complicated-for-my-little-brain: Glad you're still with me, my friend. And I'm not really bothered about the chapter length thing... You did have a point; they were short. Full moons are once every lunar month, which is about once every 28 days. I think. Once a month, anyway. Also, thanks for that link! I like the pics but you need more Discworld ones.

Eridala: Thanks! Appreciate the compliment

CHAPTER SIX: MOONLIGHT, PART TWO

He was a handsome wolf, she noted dazedly in the second or so it took her muscles to react. Bigger than she was, with red fur and blue eyes that meant he could never be mistaken for a dog, even now he would still stand out in a crowd. Then she managed to gain control over herself and turned away, too fed up to want to see him leave. Better that it was her choice to walk away. She heard him padding after her and sighed, blinking rain out of her eyes; she was in no mood to argue right now. Breaking into a trot, she accelerated.

It occurred to her even as she moved away down the slick wet cobbles of the street that she was running away. She'd been waiting for him to acknowledge her existence for weeks, and when they finally came face to face with no excuse to leave, she walked away. The wolf, who was far more practical than the woman, ignored this and just kept going. If a situation made you uncomfortable, you left. Simple.

It didn't work entirely like that, though. Pausing at a junction, she could hear his paws behind her. She really, really didn't want to have to deal with this right now. He had made it only too clear that he was less than happy with what she had done, and that was the understatement of the year. So whatever happened, the conversation was going to be unpleasant, probably painful, and she just didn't want to hear it. Because if she didn't hear him say it, she could go on for a while living with the hope that it might work out and he might forgive her. The illusion held some small measure of comfort; gods knew she didn't have anything else even remotely comforting in her life right now.

He was still following her. Well, let him. She had come for a run, and run she was going to. At the next corner, she did just that, leaping from a slow trot to a flat out sprint in less than three strides and flashing away towards the nearest gate. Bigger than her he might be, but she was damned sure she could outrun him. Trying to ignore the small part of her that was screaming that she was making a mistake, the part that wanted nothing more than to turn and see him again, Angua ran into the pouring rain and sped off down the muddy road to the gate, ears flat against her skull.

He'd lost sight of her. Damn. Slowing to a halt, the wolf cocked his head and distantly heard her running, several streets away. Well, he'd handled that brilliantly, hadn't he. Knowing it was hopeless, he lowered his nose closer to the wet cobbles; he wasn't surprised to find no scent. Even a fresh trail wouldn't settle in rain like this. Okay, time to think. She would be headed out of the city, the way he had planned on going when he'd left this evening. That meant the closest gate, which was... That way. His tongue lolled out in a wolfish grin – she never had learned all the short cuts in the city, and he had a map of Ankh-Morpork in his head.

Less than five minutes later, he loped up to the gate and was rewarded by a distant glimpse of pale fur some way off, just vanishing into the rain. He'd cut her lead down. Now he just had to keep her in sight until she stopped or he caught up, whichever came first.

Easier said than done. Angua was a werewolf of long experience, especially when compared with his three weeks, and she knew exactly how to run over this sort of ground. Not surprising, when you thought about it; whilst she'd never gone into any detail, he knew in a vague sort of way that she had had to flee one step ahead of a mob several times before. Good for her, but he was beginning to get tired; he wasn't used to running on four legs yet and his muscles were aching with the strain of trying to grow accustomed to the new style. Still, she couldn't keep going forever. Right?

He wasn't sure when he'd lost sight of her, but he suddenly realised that it had been a long time since he'd seen even the distant glimpse of pale fur. There was no scent in this rain and he couldn't track to save his life, but he was certain he was on her trail. Dismissing it as a werewolf thing – he didn't have time to think about it if he was ever going to catch her – he ran onwards through the rain, wondering if he was going to be able to sort this out if he ever caught up with her. Gods, Angua, you never make it easy, do you? He thought to himself as he ran.

Angua was finally beginning to grow out of breath. It had been a long time since she'd tried a cross-country sprint, but she'd kept going long enough that she was certain he couldn't find any physical trace of her. Slowing to a steady lope, then easing down to a trot, she finally dropped to a walk and then stopped, ears pricked as she caught her breath. Oddly, she felt better; running had its own peculiar liberation in it, and the exertion had burned off a lot of pent-up energy.

There was just one small problem. Her senses were telling her that against all expectations, he was close by. She shouldn't have underestimated him, she realised dully, the exhilaration of the run leaching out of her. Well, she wasn't going to run again. She might as well listen. Then, when she'd recovered from the black depression and, if she was honest, heartbreak his words would give her, she could decide what happened next in her life.

The only thing keeping her in the city now was the remote chance that he might forgive her with time. Once that possibility disappeared, she knew there was no way she'd be able to stay. At a conservative estimate, the entire undead community of Ankh-Morpork hated her, most of the Watch were afraid of her and the ones that weren't afraid were somewhere between loathing and rage. Not a lot of future there really. Where she could go was a problem to be dealt with later. Resignedly, she turned and stood waiting for him to arrive.

He came into view slowly, pausing to sniff the air, to look around, obviously not entirely certain of his way. Cursing herself, and wishing she didn't react to the sight of him so easily, she shifted position deliberately and watched his head snap up, bright blue eyes narrowing slightly as he focused on her. Biting back a low whine of sheer longing and unhappiness, she looked at him, her expression as blank as she could make it.

END OF CHAPTER SIX

I was going to continue, but I'm out of time and I wanted to update tonight. So you're just going to have to wait. And what happened to all my reviewers? If you want more story you have to motivate me into writing it... So review and tell me you love me, and I shall write some more.

Frosteh


	7. Moonlight, Part Three

CHOICES

Disclaimer: I don't care what anybody tries to say. They are MINE. Well, okay, they're not, and I have to give them back soon.... But for now I own them.

ANSWERS TO REVIEWS

Taliara: I know. But I already have another story planned with my favourite werewolf and person-who-is-only-a-werewolf-in-my-delusional-fantasy-world, so don't worry. And the red fur is not wolf like, but I figured red hair equals red fur for werewolves...

UltimaDragon-whatever: Yay, I have a loyal fan. I feel special.

Azrael's Portal: Will do

Estriel: It was kind of sad, wasn't it? Hope you won't be too disappointed that this next part isn't going to be quite so sentimental... Ehehe, yeah, I sort of changed direction quite dramatically. You'll see what I mean.

Not your average: I did sort of waffle a bit, didn't I? Um, call it setting the scene, or being dramatic, or something... Moving on... Yeah, he wouldn't say that, but most of this is based on extreme mental confusion and possibly a slight altering of personality when he changed species... Which gives me an excuse to make him extremely out of character in later stories

Jessimyre: Ta very much. Glad you like it...

Annie Wilkes 1: Yes ma'am!

MOONLIGHT, PART THREE

The two wolves looked at each other uncertainly, and it struck her as sad that it had come to this. There had never been any awkwardness between them once he had learned what she was, and they had never looked back. But now neither of them knew what to say. He made the low sound that was her name in lupine, and even that sounded hesitant.

It was quite sudden, the change. Nothing triggered it, but something inside her snapped as though a dam had burst in her chest, and a flood of pure elemental rage swept through her as the werewolf fought back. The human woman had been deeply miserable, the wolf confused, but the werewolf was angry at the sheer injustice of her suffering so needlessly. She had been treated very unfairly and very badly by those she cared about because of what she had done, what she had had to do, and the pain and fury she felt blazed up unbearably. The old Angua was back with a vengeance and she wasn't going to lie down and take it any more when she didn't have to.

She gave him no warning whatsoever. Not so much as a snarl escaped before she was already in mid-leap, and he barely had time to blink in wary confusion before she was on him in a furious ball of rage and teeth. Her fangs sank into his ear and tore, her claws scored a deep gash down his muzzle, and she broke free and circled, growling angrily with her eyes afire.

He stood motionless, confused by the sudden conflict between the two sides of him, and gained several new wounds before the werewolf took control and he struck back instinctively, drawing blood. Hesitating earned him a bitten foreleg, and then the human was buried as the wolf came to the fore defensively.

The fight was brutal and savage and longer than a battle between werewolves should be. Their undoing was the glowing orb in the sky above them; they couldn't change form. Not that it bothered Angua, who wasn't thinking now but was simply taking out her anger and burning off some of her frustration and hurt. Carrot didn't have time to even think of changing shape; he was too busy trying to stop her ripping him to shreds. Even as a werewolf, Carrot fought fairly, and as a result he was being thrashed until the darker part of him took control, and then the battle really turned bloody.

Finally the two broke apart, panting and bloody, and stared at each other. Angua held her head slightly to one side to ease the strain on a deep bite at the side of her neck; Carrot was standing awkwardly to favour a jagged gash in his thigh. Both of them were covered in scratches and bites, some worse than others, and crimson stained both pale blonde fur and red fur in scores of places. Bloody muzzles agape as they panted for breath, the two werewolves gazed at one another expressionlessly in silence.

Gradually the silence became heavier, somehow more potent. She felt her hackles rising in the suddenly electrically charged atmosphere and shivered involuntarily, wounds forgotten as she stared into blue eyes, anger gone as though the fight had never happened. Savouring the taste of him warm and bloody in her mouth, she was aware he was gazing at her just as intently.

The two wolves stepped closer to each other, no aggression now; one or the other whined softly, she wasn't sure whom. Blinking, she forced herself to look away, shaking off the feeling of drowning, and there was an oddly expectant silence for a moment before he made a soft whimpering sound. I'm sorry.

She turned back and looked at him, surprised, and saw the apology in his eyes as well. Then it hit her that she'd been stupid thinking this was personal; it rarely was, with Carrot, and that wouldn't have changed. The bite gave physical alterations and it would open up the darker side of him that he kept hidden, but she couldn't alter anything that wasn't already there. He hadn't been angry as such, just confused.

It was a lot easier to do this as wolves. A wolf wasn't capable of misunderstanding another wolf; the language didn't allow for hidden meanings. Everything was a lot clearer now... And the air was still almost humming around them.

She looked at him, a smile in her eyes, and her tail moved briefly. Relief dawned in his eyes, as he understood that he was forgiven, before his gaze grew intense once more; the charged atmosphere was affecting him too. Another step closer, and another, and their muzzles touched. One would almost expect sparks to leap the gap. A shiver ran through her from nose to tail and she became aware of a new scent in the air, above even the overpowering metallic scent of blood. It was a scent she recognised, although she'd never encountered it this strongly. A low growl sounded in his throat, and she heard her own answering growl before she registered she'd made any response.

He licked the bite on her neck gently; she turned and tended his wounds as well. Grooming the drying blood from each other's fur was a mute apology, although there was something else there too. Their eyes were very bright as they worked, the sweet heavy scent an unspoken presence in the air and affecting them both. Already half-gone, feeling like she was drifting in a haze, she offered no resistance when he pushed at her gently, a deeper growl sounding from within his chest. For once, she gave ground and submitted willingly, even eagerly, turning to lick his muzzle briefly with a low noise in her throat that was neither growl nor whine but somewhere in between.

END OF CHAPTER SEVEN

Okay, for those of you who hadn't already worked it out, yes, they mated. But this story is still PG, so that's as far as this chapter goes. I will be writing an extended version of this chapter and putting it up as a separate story; it will be far more explicit in terms of both fighting and wolfy love, so feel free to read that if you want.

Now, I am sorry to say that this story is almost over. Only the epilogue to go. But do not fear, I have another story half-planned that will be about the Watch, with our two werewolves in it. So keep watching for that, but be patient because I don't even have a plot yet.

Incidentally, does anyone know what colour Angua's eyes are? I've always pictured them as green for some reason but I don't think it ever actually says in the books... Any thoughts?

Frosteh


	8. Epilogue

CHOICES

Disclaimer: Making no profit from this. Although it's an idea... Reckon I could sell them all on eBay? Huh, I wish

ANSWERS TO REVIEWS

Mercator: That may be the best review of my writing I have ever had. I'm glad you like it so much; especially as you admitted you weren't too keen on Angua-based fics... I do need to work on my chapter length, though, don't I? I'll try in my next story, I promise.

UltimaDragon7890: Most likely blue, I guess, although people with blonde hair can have green, grey or even brown eyes. So really we'll never know. Anyway, this will be the last chapter, and not really a chapter at that, more of an epilogue. But I'm working on a plot for a sequel as I've gotten so many positive reviews.

Blank Ned: Yup, happy fluffy ending as I said, a sequel is coming, but it might be a while yet as I have a beginning but no plot... I'm your first reviewer? Go me! Hehe, my thanks to you as well for staying with me. That goes for all of you who reviewed right from the beginning, too.

Not your average: Wolf porn? That's too scary for me to even contemplate. I don't intend the extended chapter to go quite that far, I'd just like to say... There are some places even my mind fears to go.

Eridala: Very good point, although wolves' eyes are usually yellow... Still, it's a good point that nobody ever picked up on. Interesting. I may even write to Pterry and just ask him, actually, because it's annoying me now!

Taliara: Yeah, I know, but being full moon and all they couldn't change forms and wolf language seems to be more feeling than words. Plus I doubt I could write convincing dialogue

CHAPTER EIGHT: EPILOGUE

Vimes walked slowly up the stairs towards his office, whistling tunelessly between his teeth and not really thinking about anything much. Passing the landing, he paused and glanced along the corridor of accommodation out of long habit, just to make sure everything looked normal. One door was part way open; counting the other doors, he noticed it was Carrot's room and remembered it had been a full moon last night.

Padding down the corridor, he put his head around the door, intending to see if his captain was awake so he could see if the man was all right; Vimes would be the first to admit he knew little of werewolves and nothing of how they changed shape, so it was worth checking up.

The sight that met his eyes was at first glance a scene of chaos. Closer inspection revealed that the blankets and sheets had been tugged off the bed and piled up in the middle of the floor, and a closer inspection still from the safety of the doorway meant that he saw the fur.

The curtains were drawn and the light inside the room was dim. Waiting a moment to let his eyes adjust, he took another, longer look. Two wolves were curled around each other, fast asleep. Anyone else might have taken them for dogs, but Vimes had seen Angua as a wolf often enough to recognise that pale fur, and there were very few dogs that large with red fur. They had obviously sorted out the situation, and he wisely decided not to say anything; instead he backed out carefully and pushed the door almost closed.

Opening the door to his office, he tried to keep a scowl in place but he found himself whistling tunelessly through his teeth again and grinning like a fool. Although Sam Vimes would sooner have been boiled in oil than admit it, he did have a sentimental streak after all, a fact that he kept very tightly hidden.

END

Well, lovely people, that's that. A short and sweet bit of shameless fluff to round off the story, and another appearance by Vimes just for you. No betas were harmed in the making of this fanfic, so I hope there weren't any problems... A sequel will be coming, but it might be a while yet as I have no title and no plot.

Frosteh loves you all.


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